Ten Hours

Ten hours. Ten! Hours! Ten ten ten! If I say it enough, I might start to believe it.

Milo slept for ten hours in a row last night. He (and we) slept through the night for the first time. It's pretty awesome, not getting out of bed until it is light outside. Poor little baby, though—he was quite hungry. Not to worry, Milo. After not being emptied for that many hours, these boobs have plenty of breakfast for you.

Nom nom nom.*

*Check out Super-Dad-Man for more baby/meat-related humor.

Our Little Mer-baby

Andrew needed no rehearsal. He just knows all the words. Impressive, no?

Isn't it neat? from Megan Langford on Vimeo.

5AM and the excitement continues

Milo woke up for the first time at 5:10. It may be a fluke, because I don't think he fell asleep until a little after 9:00. I'm not sure how to feel about this wake-up time. On one hand, awesome. This is inching toward sleeping through the night. On the other hand, great (note the tone of sarcasm here). He might just think he's had enough sleep and decide to stay up.

I will finish feeding him in another fifteen minutes and attempt to put him back in bed. Hoping for another two and a half hours of sleep . . .

He likes to keep me guessing.

I woke up at 4:23am and freaked out. Milo had not yet woken up to eat, and he was asleep by 8:10pm. My heart raced; I was sure something must be wrong. I shook Andrew awake, and he rushed in to Milo's room to check on him.

I sat up, straining to hear something, anything, on the baby monitor. Waiting to hear the panic I felt reflected in Andrew's voice as he called out that something was wrong. But I only heard silence. And then the soft click of the bedroom door shutting. Andrew's footsteps padding back to our room.

Milo was still sleeping. He was absolutely fine.

I, on the other hand, was in quite a state. I don't think I'd ever felt more awake at that hour of the night before. I tried to sleep, but I just lay there. Milo woke up about fifteen minutes later, ready to eat.

Now I'm only concerned because Milo hasn't pooped in nine hours. Not so much looking forward to THAT diaper change.

Sleep is for the weak. And I am so very, very weak.

I read that it's common for babies to regress in their sleeping habits around three months of age. Aaaaaand, you can see where I'm going with this, right?

Milo is back to waking up every three to four hours at night, which means we're back to getting up twice with him. For awhile there we were only getting up once, around 4:00, which wasn't so bad. But getting up at midnight AND 4:00 is . . . bad. Unfortunately, this seems to be the new pattern, despite my fervently hoping it was just one bad night. Then hoping it was just two bad nights. But three bad nights in a row? Nope, now it is just a thing.

Tell me, when did YOUR babies sleep through the night consistently? How much more of this are we going to have to endure?

I also took some names

I have news for you, Internet. My old jeans fit! Can you believe that?! Something that fit* BEFORE getting pregnant now fits** AFTER being pregnant! And they barely even give me a muffin top!***

*quite loose

**sort of snug

***I don't care, they zip up! And I'm just SURE they'll loosen up after a couple wearings. They're still tight from the dryer! Am I right, ladies? You know how it is.

The Way to Conclusions is Jumping

So . . . About that whole "Vaccines iz making mah baybee sick!" thing.

I MAY have overreacted. A tad. I am sick now, too. And I have not gotten a single vaccine in like, ten years. (Nurses and doctors in the house, should I be getting some boosters or something???) It looks like this was just (as my sister put it) the first of many illnesses we'll share as a family. Did I mention that Andrew wasn't feeling well, either, or did I conveniently forget to mention that in my little rant about the vaccines?

It's really challenging being sick and still having to care for a baby. I'm sure all you parents out there are probably not very sympathetic, as you have likely done this many times. I have been relying quite heavily on my mother-in-law and my mom and sister (who happens to be in town) to help me with Milo while I get some rest. Since we're still not sleeping through the night, I'm finding it really difficult to get enough sleep to be on the mend. Thankfully, Milo seems to be almost all better. He's still quite a bit fussier than usual, but at least we're managing to coax a few smiles out of him now and then.
Milo wasn't so sure about this goat, though. (He took his first trip to Deanna Rose! Was not impressed.)

No, not tortellini. Torticollis.

A few days ago I mentioned that Milo seems to prefer his right side. Like I said, he primarily looks to the right—even if we're talking to him in funny voices and making silly faces and gestures from the left. He might even smile, but he won't turn his head. We can sort of physically turn his head to the left, but he doesn't seem to have the same range of motion as the right, and he always quickly turns back toward the right.

So at his check-up on Monday, I mentioned this all to his pediatrician. She examined him, noting that yes, he did seem to look more to the right. She also noticed that he was getting a bit of a flat spot on his head. While I hadn't noticed it, I wasn't surprised at all to hear it. When he sleeps, he always turns his head the same way. Unfortunately, the doctor isn't convinced that this is a totally normal thing for a baby to do.

She suspects that Milo might have torticollis. Basically, this is a condition where the muscles in the neck are too tight on one side—maybe from odd positioning in the womb—and they don't loosen up on their own. Of course I googled it. Apparently this condition can require surgery if it goes undetected (and therefore doesn't get corrected early enough). Which is worrisome. But we are detecting it. If his right-side preference is, in fact, "it." I don't really think Milo has torticollis. He CAN look to the left. Maybe not quite as far, but he has some ability to turn his head both directions.

Regardless, we're going to get him evaluated. Our pediatrician referred us to Infant & Toddler Services. They focus on all sorts of early intervention for the kiddos, from problems like deafness or Down's Syndrome to speech delays and motor skills delays. They are going to send two people to our home to evaluate Milo. If he qualifies, he will begin seeing a physical therapist who will work with him to develop and stretch his neck muscles. If he doesn't qualify, a physical therapist will still teach us some exercises we can do with him to strengthen his muscles and encourage him to look both ways. They'll even reevaluate him after a few weeks or months to see how he is progressing. And it won't cost us a dime. It's all paid for by the state (and our tax dollars, I suppose, blah blah blah).

Since the check-up, we've already been focusing on trying to get Milo to look to the left. We lay him down facing the other way in his crib. We hold him using the opposite arm we normally do. We physically turn his head and try to get his attention with little toys and things. And it might be doing some good. We've already noticed that he looks left a little bit more often. There's still no question that he prefers the right, but I'm confident that he'll be just fine—no surgery required.

My Poor Sick Baby

Milo got sick on Tuesday. He's still not 100 percent, but it's clear that he feels much better. But Tuesday was rough. He had a cold, maybe. Something was filling his nose and throat with mucus and making it hard for him to breathe. He kept choking and gagging, coughing, trying to clear it out. But he couldn't. His little eyes would open wide and my heart would stop every time he couldn't catch his breath. He slept most of the day, or would just lay there, his eyes half shut and his mouth hanging open, completely worn out.

I was truly worried about him. For the first time since I became a mom, I felt profoundly responsible for him. Milo needed someone to care for him and try to make him feel better, and that person was me. I was the one making the calls and deciding whether to give him saline drops or if he needed his nose sucked out with that bulb thing. I've sort of felt this before, this surprise that I am the decision maker.

Mommy, does Milo need a hat? Is he warm enough? Do you think he's hot, Mommy? Could he be hungry?

I don't know. Your guess is as good as mine.

At first it was overwhelming, making the decisions, but with every day that goes by, I do get better at guessing what he needs. Sort of. But this sickness thing just about killed me. In some ways, I feel like I caused him to feel that way.

It may have been completely unrelated; it may have been coincidence. But I believe it was not. On Monday, Milo received his first two vaccines. I believe that the vaccines threw his immune system into overdrive, making his tiny little body think it needed to fight off something that wasn't there. Or, the vaccines messed with his immune system, making it easy for any little germ to actually give him symptoms. Or maybe he was literally responding to the vaccines themselves, a type of allergic reaction or something. The doctor's office told me emphatically that Milo's symptoms were in no way related to the vaccines. But I'm not so sure.

So why do I feel responsible? Because I decided which vaccines to give him, and when he should get them. I am the one who has been reading about the vaccinations and making the call on going against the medical grain and putting Milo on an alternate vaccine schedule. And I do believe in vaccines as a general rule, but I hate to see Milo feel so bad. Maybe if he had been a little older before starting the immunizations, or maybe if I had been eating healthier, he would have gotten even more nutrient-rich breastmilk. Maybe I could have prevented this.

On top of that, seeing him get that shot just about broke my heart. His face got all red, and he screamed, loudly, over and over. It couldn't even be described as a cry, it was pure screaming, from pain and shock. I immediately started crying. I picked him up after the shot and held him closer than I ever have, and he just buried his face into my shoulder and continued to scream. He did calm down in about five minutes, but continued to sigh in distress for another twenty. Three days later, I still feel like crying about it.

So all this? This is parenthood, isn't it?

Two-Month Stats

Milo had his two-month check-up yesterday. Here's how he measured up:

• Weight: 12 lbs., 1 oz. (60th percentile)
• Length: 24 in. (80th percentile)
• Head Circumference: 16 in. (75th percentile)

At two months, Milo is getting more hair. It might be brown. Or reddish brown. Maybe.

At two months, Milo smiles. He especially likes it when you tickle his lips with a burp cloth and when you use silly voices, but sometimes he smiles for no reason at all. He also likes being bounced up and down (while facing you, holding him under his arms—if those variables change, then not so much).

At two months, Milo tolerates bathtime and sometimes even enjoys it.

At two months, Milo has outgrown all his newborn-size clothing, due to his healthy appetite. I think he eats about five or five and a half ounces per sitting.

At two months, Milo fights falling asleep sometimes, but is often soothed with swaddling, a pacifier, and white noise. Swaying and a steady pat on the back also helps.

At two months, Milo makes more and more sounds. He still squeaks when he eats. A couple weeks ago I thought I'd feed him in the cafe at a Barnes & Noble, but it was so quiet in there, it felt like a library. I chickened out because I just knew Milo's squeaking would attract attention. Nursing in public is just not my favorite thing to do, and the less attention I get the better.

At two months, Milo drools and makes little spit bubbles all the time (except when he's sleeping).

At two months, Andrew and I are occasionally exhausted. We're very ready for this boy to sleep through the night.

At two months, Milo is not ready to sleep through the night, but sometimes only needs to get up once. He has gone as long as nine hours after his last feeding before bedtime. Unfortunately, that feeding was around 6:30pm, so it didn't equal sleeping through the night. We're working on getting him on a more regular schedule.

At two months, Milo favors his right side. He moves his right arm more than the left, and he prefers to look to the right.

At two months, Milo loves to suck on his hands (especially his right hand). Sometimes little bits of fuzz get stuck to the skin between his fingers because they're so damp.

At two months, Milo loves to be outside, and he really enjoys going for walks in the stroller.

At two months, Milo often clenches his fists in tiny balls and looks like he's about to punch someone.

At two months, I sometimes want to punch someone, and that someone is Gary, our cat. She's a real pain. I think she might be just a tad bit jealous of the baby. Sometimes she tries to lay down on him. I do not approve.

At two months, I have started exercising regularly, which feels really good. Twice a week sessions with a trainer, once a week yoga.

At two months, in spite of the exercise, my pre-pregnancy clothes still don't fit.